


3. Konstantine

by Whreflections



Series: Shuffle fics [3]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drawing, M/M, Pre-Band, Waycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-28
Updated: 2012-11-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my shuffle meme fics series.  These were supposed to be drabbles, but I don't really do drabbles typically so...some of them are, some of them not so much.  </p><p>Gerard has a dream that sticks with him of a future that seems too bright to believe.  It keeps him up, and when he's not there, Mikey's always drawn to his side, every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3. Konstantine

**Author's Note:**

> 3\. Konstantine- Something Corporate
> 
> (the songs in these first ten I'll post all came from my current playlist on grooveshark, cause I was too eager to do this to wait for my Zune to charge and give me many, many more song options, haha)

_It’s always you in my big dreams_

_And you don’t wanna be here in the future_

_So you say the present’s just a pleasant interruption to the past_

_I had these dreams, in them I learned to play guitar_

_Maybe cross the country_

_Become a rock star_

_And there was hope in me that I could take you there, but dammit you’re so young_

_Well I don’t think I care_

_And if I hurt you, then I’m sorry_

_Please don’t think that this was easy_

_And then you’d bring me home_

_Cause we both know what it’s like to be alone_

_And I’m dreaming in your living room_

_But we don’t have much room to live_

_They’ll never hurt you like I do, no_

“Gee?”

He knew Gerard heard him, knew it first by the pause in the scratch of pencil on sketchbook.  He was still mostly hidden, all shadow from this angle against the tiny pool of desk lamp light and Mikey shuffled forward, wrapped his Star Wars comforter a little tighter around his shoulders.  It was cold down here, always had been but he’d mostly adjusted, mostly expected it except on nights like this, still fall but slanting down into a Jersey winter, and he woke in a bed cold in Gerard’s absence. 

They had separate beds, technically.  Practically, they slipped into each other’s with such frequency that technicalities hardly mattered. 

“Thought you had work tomorrow.”  His voice was just a little raw, not quite rough enough to tell Mikey right off he was wasted and that in itself was a good sign.  He’d come back early, then. 

“I do, but you never came in to tell me you were back.  I thought…”  He thought he’d stayed out again, though he might be across town still drinking with those people he hardly knew and that Mikey didn’t trust.  They weren’t Gerard’s friends for the right reasons, didn’t seem to know a single damn thing about him that really meant anything.  They knew he drank Southern Comfort and Crown Royale, knew he’d drink anything else if those weren’t on hand, knew if they got him drunk enough he’d start talking about shit they didn’t understand but still, they didn’t know him and Mikey hated it when he went, but still, he never said.  Gerard was in art school, branching out, and he was still just a kid, still a sophomore, still tagging along in Gerard’s shadow when he could like they were little all over again and he thought so long as he hid inside Gerard’s lines, he’d be safe. 

“Sorry, Mikey.  I got back and I kept thinking, I’ve been wanting to draw this for a couple days and I had this idea tonight, thought I could pull it off.  I had a dream the other night, it was…well, here.”  He reached back for Mikey’s hand, pale fingers shockingly warm as he pulled Mikey in to look over his shoulder.  “This one’s you.” 

It was, sort of.  It had his body alright but a fluidity he’d never found, nothing gawky about his long arms as they curved around a large silver bass.  His hair hung over his eyes, choppy and blonde and against his shoulder a disembodied arm rested, the beginnings of a sketch he could guess at.  He reached out, fingertips tracing paper where the shoulder would’ve joined a body. 

“You’re missing.”

“Yeah well, that one’s giving me trouble.  Can’t get it to look quite right.”  He reached for the corner of his desk, for his pack of smokes and he tipped the last one into his palm, reached out to feel blindly around in the dark for his light.  Mikey had caught the glint of the zippo in the low light as he came over and he found it first, tugged it out of a sideways flowerpot to flip open and give Gerard his flame.   He was almost always quiet on the first inhale, focused on the feel, and Mikey shuffled just a little closer, peered down just a little better at the picture.

“So we had a band?”

“Mm.  We were fucking good too.  Shoulda seen you play that bass.” 

“Bet it was nothing to you on guitar.”

“Nah, I didn’t play.” 

For a second his heart actually skipped, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smile.  He let Gerard feel it, lips pressing soft against his jaw.  “Even better.”  Not that Gerard would agree, not that he’d ever admit it, but sure, he could play guitar, but it was _nothing_ on how well he could sing.  He never did it in public anymore, hadn’t since they were little, but he sang in the shower and under his breath while he drew, and he sang for Mikey.  Out back just two weeks ago he’d been that lucky, hazy with a few too many beers of his own as he’d leaned back against Gerard’s chest and listened, felt the vibration and the warmth in every word. 

_Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again._

They’d shared a cigarette in between stilted verses and Gerard’s fingers up and down the inside of his arm had made him shiver, Gee’s thumb rubbing over his veins somehow intimate in a way he couldn’t ever imagine anyone else’s touch being. 

Gerard had said nothing, just erased a line of his own arm on the paper, took another drag and leaned just a little into Mikey against his back.  Mikey shifted enough to wrap the blanket around both of them, one arm wrapping around Gerard’s waist to hold him close.  So close to the light of the lamp the blanket looked ridiculously threadbare, faded TIE fighters barely holding back the clumped stuffing inside.  They’d had this since Gerard was five, shared it since the night Mikey woke up scared of goblins and Gerard wrapped them both in a cave underneath it, filled with pillows and lit by flashlight beam.  He’d stay up, keep watch and Mikey wouldn’t have to worry.  

“What else do you remember, about the dream?”

He shrugged, shoulder displacing Mikey’s chin that rested there.  “Not much.  The stage had a good look though, like…”  He tapped his pencil, searched for the words and gave up because there were too many; Mikey knew the look.  “You had a Starfox helmet.  ‘Good luck’; on your amp.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, real and bright and maybe a little too loud with mom and dad asleep just a floor above them. 

“That’s fucking awesome, seriously, Gee, that’s exactly the kind of band we’d have.”  The kind with old game references hardly anyone would get just so they could see the light in the eyes of those that did, a rock band that didn’t try to fit, was nothing like the one’s Gee’d tried so far.  The kind of band where Gerard could come up behind him like that, arm slung across his shoulders half like a brother and half like a lover, and no one would care.  Compared to the dreams Gerard had been having lately, it was one hell of an awesome departure. 

“Think you’ll be done by tomorrow?”

“Oh I’ll show you when you get up, either way.” 

He was torn, half sinking inside to know that Gerard would sleep, that he’d sit here and work and after Mikey left, probably pull out the flask in the bottom drawer.  Still, he was working, and working on something that made him smile, that drew a spark to his eyes it was sometimes hard to find.  That had to be alright, didn’t it?  It had to be improvement. 

His hand fit just right around the back of Gerard’s neck, still growing and yet his fingers were already long enough to cover just enough space, to squeeze gentle against his spine.  He settled for leaving a kiss on his temple, unwilling to pull his eyes off the paper for the proper kiss he knew Gerard would’ve given him if he’d only let his body ask for it. 

“Night, Gee.” 

“If I’m up, I’ll make you coffee.” 

“You’re the fucking best.”

“Oh you know it.” 

As he left, he draped the blanket around Gerard’s shoulders. 


End file.
